My beautiful, funny, tiring, teething bundle of monkey love turns one tomorrow. I can't quite believe it. I can't remember life before him, and yet it seems only yesterday that he arrived. He's taught me so much... And not only how to function with no sleep. He's taught me to not only appreciate my own mother more, but all mothers. Girls, we freaking rock. Its tough! And not in a high-flying or stressful job kind of way, but in a no-thanks, no-rest, constant-worry, dealing-with-poop, putting-yourself-last-on-the-list kind of way. He's taught me to appreciate all children more. BW (before William), they all looked the same. Now I can spot the cheeky one, the sky one, the future rock star, the artist. He's taught me to love Mother Nature more. Aided by science, its phenomenal what we can do, make and improve.

So now he's one. I'm the mother of a one year old. How lucky am I? Who cares if my crawling, two-toothed busy body will no longer snuggle me, and refuses to kiss anyone but Peter Rabbit and Elmo? I have never loved anyone more purely and besottedly (yes, I think I've made that word up too!)

Today seems like a good day to stop my baby blog. I feel that I'm not playing fair on the trade descriptions act. He's not a baby-baby anymore so my concerns are different to most new mums. I just want to say before I go that its been a pleasure and I'm so grateful for all your ideas and advice. You rock! I wish you and your babies a lifetime of love, laughter and good luck!

And if you miss me, don't forget my memoir about my difficult journey to motherhood, Amerikarma: Good Things Happen to Those Who Can't Wait, is out now on Amazon.

... To my American and Australian readers! I hope you are being thoroughly spoilt. It is funny how once you are a mum even the smallest things like a bubble bath (without being disturbed), reading a book or magazine (again without being disturbed!) or a night out with your girlfriends feels like the best treat ever... So I hope your families are giving you all of the above - plus chocolates!

I know it would seem that a healthy child is the only present we need (William is the biggest gift I've ever received, certainly) but me-time is good too.



Just want to say thanks to reader Caroline for her reality check comment about breastfeeding. William isn't really a toddler yet, he turns one next week, and nursing till he was one was a goal I set myself. I am still in pain though (but not as bad) and he is increasingly disinterested, so I think this time frame will work out for both of us... And I will treasure our final seven days of the amazing bond that breastfeeding has given us. As I've said many times before in this blog, whether you can do it for two weeks or two years, we mums should congratulate ourselves - as its really not the easiest thing to do. If you've given it your best shot, don't allow anyone to judge you if you stop, and don't allow anyone to judge you if you continue into the toddler years. Society should back off. This is a decision for mother and baby.



Amerikarma: Good Things Come to Those Who Can't Wait, my honest and humorous memoir about my difficult journey to motherhood, is out now on Amazon.

I have finally, after 11 months, 2 weeks and 3 days of nursing the monkey, had to stuff my bra with cabbage leaves. I was in such pain (I'm convinced William is using my boobs as teething toys and none of the advice I've got on how to stop him is working sadly) that I called my husband and asked him to stop off at the supermarket 'for the biggest cabbage' he could find. He appeared an hour later with a Chinese cabbage. I wasn't sure that was right, but quickly peeled off the crisp, cool leaves and pressed them to my sore points. I looked like a burlesque dancer performing at a vegetarian conference.



You're supposed to keep them in your bra until they wilt. I accidentally fell asleep with mine in and have woken up smelling like a winter's broth. Gorgeous! But something has worked. The lumpy, bumpy engorging that would happen when my son would bite and sip and stop (he is now far more interested in getting his calcium from yoghurt and cheese on toast) has calmed down. I dropped a zillion cup sizes. Cabbage patch, kids - there's truth in there!



My always honest, often humorous, sometimes hormonal memoir about my difficult journey to motherhood, is out now on Amazon.

道一云陈侦:与腾讯一起战斗的六年 | 腾讯SaaS加速器·CEO ...:2021-12-18 · 来源 | 腾讯SaaS加速器首期项目-道一云 从2021年和腾讯的老同学打第一个电话，认识腾讯，2021年正式成为合作伣伴，到2021年拿到腾讯产业生态投资，和腾讯真正成为一家人，陈侦已经认识腾 …

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The monkey is on the move. For the last few weeks he's been crawling at speed - normally towards plug sockets, electrical wires or dirty shoes for some reason - and now he likes nothing more than holding on to my hands and mock-walking, sort of like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins, all bow-legged and topsy-turvy. I don't imagine he'll be walking unsupported anytime soon but I took this recent development as a cue to finally get his tootsies into these cute mini Uggs I found online (www.my1styears.com) that can be personalised. I skipped having 'Monkey' sewn on the back and went for his proper name. He's not too sure about having things on his feet. In fact he seems to prefer licking the suede to wearing them at the moment, but they are so cute I wish they came in my size.

In other news... William has turned into a feeder. If anything is really delicious (be it a strawberry, a biscuit or an icy teething ring) he offers a quick nibble of it to me or my husband. And he's just decided he'd like to spoon feed me too, and himself, which is bad news for the carpet but hopefully a sign of a generous nature in the future.

'How old is your son?' a woman asked me today in a song-and-story class I've been taking William to. '11 months,' I responded, with one eye on the monkey, who is going through the strange phase of wanting to play the drums on other children's heads while stealing their dummies (despite never wanting one of his own). 'Oh, he's still a baby then - he looks like a boy, a little boy!' Indeed, my baby is a boy. I can see it myself. We are 23 days from his first birthday and my initial new mum concerns (how to breastfeed, cope with nasty nappies and wind him properly) are now a distant memory, replaced by worries that he's eating crayons/stones/insects/grass, already throwing toddler tantrums and has a terrible diet. I held a four month old today in a cafe while my friend, her mother, popped to the loo, and I couldn't believe how snuggly and soft and light she was. William is now a strong, noisy, messy, boisterous, long, heavy, delicious bundle of boy-ness. His first birthday is going to be emotional, a stamp of authenticity on what I already know: he's growing up too, too quickly!

Warning: this is a bit of a grumpy post. I was having a chat with a new friend Lizzie the other day at a baby class we'd both just joined. Her son is around the same age as William and I recognized her tired eyes as if they were my own. 'The thing I'm shocked by, exhausted by, is the fact motherhood is so relentless. I've worked hard before, long hours, weekends, but at some point it stopped and I could relax. You can't do that with a child.' Yes! That was exactly it. My bones ache, my head is sore, my nerves jangle... Constantly. I've had sleepless nights before when I was enduring tight deadlines, nasty bosses, office bullies, but nothing can prepare you for the brain-fog exhaustion of baby days. All this tiredness over the previous 11 months led to me trying to pick a fight on my husband last night. He just announced he was going to go to the gym, leaving me with the monkey, then came back and said he fancied some beers and a chat on the phone with some friends, so went off to the garden to do that. I went ballistic. Well, I cried, which I don't do that often. He didn't get it,'if you need a break just tell me to take the baby' he said. 'I'm not psychic.' Ah, I'd fallen into the female trap of wanting a man to guess why she's moody. I needed to tell him I needed me time. So now he's said it, that's what I'm going to do. 'Darling, this Saturday, I need a massage and a lunch with my girlfriends without William throwing puréed carrots at me', I'll say when he gets in from work. 'Amerikarma: Good Things Come to Those Who Can't Wait', my new memoir about motherhood, is out now on Amazon.com

I told an old friend that William was starting to wake up in the night again, refusing to settle for hours on end, and that I was starting to feel sleep-deprived and crazy, and she sent me this wonderful quote by Dr Sears that had got her through the trying times: 'the time in your arms, in your bed and at your breasts lasts a very short time in the life of a growing child. But the memories of love and security last a lifetime'. I thought of this last night, when the monkey woke upset at 1130pm and refused to settle for two hours, until I brought him into bed with us. He then slept - fitfully - kicking me in the tummy and flailing his arms in my face. I didn't sleep a wink of course, scared I was going to squash him (as I've said before, I don't know how you co-sleepers do it) but instead of getting myself wound-up, I looked at his beautiful little face and the varied expressions that flitted across it as he dreamed (of milk, Elmo and Tractor Tom?) and remembered that soon the last thing my little boy would want was to be cuddled up with his momma in bed. And, well, there's always coffee to get me through today. I'm not saying this mantra makes no sleep a good thing, but one night here and there, with those wise words in my mind, can help me survive today. 'Amerikarma: Good Things Happen to Those Who Can't Wait', my memoir about my difficult journey to motherhood, is out now on Amazon.com

I just got a great tip from one of the mums at our 'songs and story time' class at our local library. The topic of travelling with baby came up, and one woman had just made a long haul flight with her six month old. 'My husband and I sat apart,' she said, to gasps from the other mothers, who assumed the dad had insisted on it so he could watch movies. 'We took it in turns to hold the baby, that way the baby got to look at new things, new faces, and wasn't so bored, and rather than us both enduring the baby and getting tired and irritable together, one of us could 100 percent relax, eat or sleep, until it was our turn.'



What a great idea! I'd never have thought of it, but will try it next time I fly!

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William and I hope you and your bunnies are having lots of fun and eating as much chocolate as us (well, me)!

I'm pretty sure the monkey just said his first word: up. He's been doing the ma-ma, da-da and hey-hey thing for a while, but I think they are just the rambling gurgles of a ten month old. This 'up' though was used in a very specific context. He was sat in his highchair, lips pressed together, refusing to eat any more baby rice. In the one second I moved the spoon away from his mouth, he saw a chance to escape and flung his arms straight over his head to the ceiling and yelled 'up!' I lifted him out and he laughed. He's growing up, up and away from me already. How does this make me feel? Half and half - yay and boo! I'm going to need to get maximum kisses and cuddles in now before he starts trying to escape my grasp.



Sarah Ivens new book, Amerikarma: Good Things Come to Those Who Can't Wait, is out now on Amazon.